


The Art of Eloquence Challenge

by ginervamariechaseeverdeen



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: All Human, Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M, One Shot, Painting, artist
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-03
Updated: 2015-09-03
Packaged: 2018-04-18 19:10:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4717265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ginervamariechaseeverdeen/pseuds/ginervamariechaseeverdeen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The story of an artist and a boy with bronze hair. AU, AH</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Art of Eloquence Challenge

I stood in front of the easel in my dorm room holding a paint brush in my right hand with a procarious blob of orange paint on the end while my left hand was planted on my hip. Next to me was a table containing my palette, a cup of spare brushes of every size and shape, and a Starbucks Frappicinno bottle filled with murky water and a few used brushes. My jeans and t-shirt were already splattered with every color of the rainbow from mixing colors for my latest painting. The walls in my art corner bore spots of paint as well, most from my Polluck phase. I stared at the canvas waiting for inspiration to strike. I already knew that I wanted something bright and fiery. Orange felt like a good color this morning as I had picked out my outfit consisting of a bright orange v-neck t-shirt, skinny jeans, and my yellow chucks with orange laces. I had grabbed an orange hair band out of my draw and pulled my hair into a low messy bun before looking in the mirror and deciding that my subconscious had picked orange for today's color scheme.

Now I was in front of my canvas wondering what on earth I could paint. Sunsets are cliché, and fire is one of the hardest things to paint- ever. As I pondered, the glob of orange paint slid closer and closer to the end of my paint brush before landing on the toe of my right shoe with a resounding plop.

Great, I thought sarcastically as I grabbed a paper towel and carefully wiped the paint off my shoe. At least it didn't hit the fabric though, I realized with relief. My converse were the one part of my wardrobe that I was insanely meticulous about. They had to stay clean above all else. I stood back up and returned my stare to the blank canvas in front of me when my stomach grumbled. Right, breakfast. I remembered that I hadn't had any yet. I stuck the brush into the Frappicinno bottle and turned to check my appearance before heading to the on campus Starbucks down the street from my apartment.

As I thought, my jeans and shirt were covered in splatters from my many endeavors in painting. My left elbow boasted a streak of blue, my nose had an orange smudge on the right side, and the edge of my right ear was now yellow to match one of the studs I had in. My ears were double pierced, and today I wore an red and a yellow stud in each one along with my purple cartilage ring which now had a yellow stripe. The strands of hair that framed my face were multi colored as always. I used to go around with paint in my hair from always tucking it behind my ears while working, but one day in high school, my best friend Alice convinced me it looked cute and was "totally me" so she went with my to the salon, and I had blue, purple, pink, and green streaks put in the front of my chocolate brown hair. My parents didn't care. Mom said to listen to Dad, and he said it was my hair. Same situations with all my piercings. They drew the line at tatoos though, despite how bad I wanted one. I have kept coloring my hair since then, sometimes swapping out the colors, but right now, at college, away from my friends and home, I felt nostalgic, and went with the original colors we chose. My bun was still in tact, and the rest of my appearance was as good as it was going to get, so I grabbed my ratty old grey purse that I have been carrying forever and headed out the door, locking it behind me.

It was sunny outside and barely anyone was out enjoying the weather since it was 9:30 on a Saturday morning. When I got to the Starbucks, I saw a flyer on the window. The title in its orange swirly letters drew me in. The page read:

* * *

**The Art of Eloquence Challenge**

Welcome one and all! Whether you be an amature artist, avid painter, a skilled photographer, or just stumbled upon this by chance, welcome!

The art program is holding its annual contest to raise money for the arts at our school. This year, our theme is eloquence. We want classics people. Not necisarily realism, but nothing modern or abstract. Anyone, whether a member of the art program or not, may enter. The rules are simple.

**Rules:**

1.) Entry fee of $25 due to art director, Esme Cullen, along with your name, graduation year, and selected media by April 10th.

2.) Must be an original work by students only. No copying a drawing or painting from a photograph, even if you took it.

3.) Medias of choice: paint of any sort, drawing with any tools you wish, or manual photography.

4.) All entries must be submitted by April 17th, or the art program will consider your entry fee a generous donation.

5.)Entries will be judged on quality, skill, and compliance theme.

**The winner will recieve a showcase of their art on campus, and all pieces will be auctioned off for the improvement of the art program.**

That's all! Good luck, and get to work!

* * *

Wow, I had heard about the art program's annual fund raiser, but I never expected it to be something like this. I was figuring it would be a bake sale or something of the like. But then again, I should have know. I picked this school for its hard core, serious art program, not for a namby-pamby one that has bake sales. I should have known. All of us in the art program were incouraged to make our lives all about art. If you weren't in love with it and prepared to dedicate all your time to it, then you were in the wrong place. The only problem with this situation was that the final sign up date was tomorrow, and would only have one week to get inspiration and paint something.

I pulled out my iPhone- no not a 5 or even a 4s, just a plain old 4, but I loved it- and snapped a picture of the flyer anyways- maybe I'd get lucky and come up with something in time- before walking into Starbucks and ordering my usual: a spinach and feta breakfast wrap and a tall caramel mocha nonfat with whip. Nobody on campus questioned my paint clad attire. Many of the art studants sported this look frequently, and we were all good enough at what we did that people didn't give our messy appearances a second thought. As I waited for my order, I glanced out the window and saw a gorgeous guy walk by. His hair was an amazing shade. It looked bronze in the bright sun, so bronze that I could see my fiery orange, only a bit darker, right there in it. He was almost a ginger. He had on jeans, black chucks, and a faded yellow t-shirt. I only saw him from the back as he walked past, but I could tell that he was tall, thin, and pretty pale. I had no idea what his face looked like, but it had to be beautiful to fit with the rest of his appearance. It didn't matter though, my brain was whirring back to my blank canvas. My bright orange I had mixed was taking on a slightly different hue as inspiration came to me in the form of a boy who just happened to walk by.

"Bella!" I heard an exasperated voice yell. Oops, I must have been too distracted to hear that my coffee was ready.

"Thanks," I said, grabbing the coffee cup and bag with my wrap in it before dashing back to my apartment.

On my way, I saw some orange daisies in planters out in front of the little hardware store. The picture in my head got clearer and clearer, and I walked faster and faster. I had to paint this. It would be perfect for the contest. When I got back, I took a few bites of the wrap, but soon it lay forgotten on my kitchen table. I returned to my easel and set the coffee next to my paints which thankfully, weren't dried out. I grabbed a brush and went straight to a dark green I had mixed that would contrast perfectly with the orange daisies that my mind had planted in this meadow I had thought up. The focal point however, would be a boy looking out into the distance, a boy with orangey bronze hair.

I painted all day long, not even breaking for lunch. My iPhone shuffled through my painting playlist as I worked. I had to have music when I painted. I was lost in the world of this painting. By the time I finally finished, it was practically midnight. My coffee cup was long empty with different colored finger prints all over it. Both my hands were coated in paint. My stomach grumbled loudly, and my phone beeped saying I had two missed calls. I looked up at my personal masterpiece though, and it was all worth it. A meadow of dark green grass and fiery orange daisies was surrounded by tall looming trees. A boy wearing jeans, a faded yellow t-shirt, and black chucks with bronze hair stood a little off to the left looking at someone or something through the trees with what I imagined to be longing. He wasnt just a boy, he was  _the_ boy. His face wasn't visible, but I could see the emotion I put into it through his posture and just the tone of the painting. His hair and the grass were gently touseled by a slight breeze. And the lighting made it appear to be mid-afternoon. I loved it. After working meticulously for hours, it was perfect. I signed my name, Bella Swan, in the bottom right corner in brown so that it wouldn't stick out and take away from it, and then I left it to dry. I cleaned my brushes and put my supplies away before checking my phone. The calls were from Alice, who was in college back near home. I'd call her tomorrow. I was exhausted. I took a quick shower, scrubbing all the paint streaks from my body, before throwing on some sweats and a t-shirt and falling asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. That night, I dreamed of him. I called and called but he never turned. The dream was colored in the same feeling of longing as the painting.

The next morning, I woke up to  _Here Comes the Sun_ by the Beatles blaring out from my alarm clock and interrupting my dream. This was rediculous. I had never even met this guy. I didn't know what he's like or what his face looks like. I didn't even know this guy's name. I must have spent entirely too much time working on it and dwelling on him yesterday. It was worth it though. Before even eating breakfast, I walked over to my easel to check that it was still perfect. Time apart from a painting reveals both new flaws and hidden beauties to the artist. Looking at my painting, I found a few spots that needed tiny touch ups. After mixing a lighter shade of green to add more highlights to the grass and an almost bluish grey with a hint of dark green for shadows, I fixed my mistakes, stood back, and looked again. Now it was perfect for real this time. I would have to send a picture to Alice for her opinion, but first, breakfast. As I was thinking, my stomach rumbled loudly, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since the few bites of that breakfast wrap yesterday. I went to the fridge and got out the ingredients for an egg ham and cheese omelet and whole wheat toast- a nice hearty breakfast.

After eating, I cleaned up the few supplies still out, and grabbed my phone off the nightstand to send Alice a picture. While waiting for her to respond, I quickly got dressed, putting on a faded blue Star Wars t-shirt I had taken from my brother, Jacob, who was a junior in high school, skinny jeans, and my blue chucks. I brushed my teeth and heard my phone ring while I was pulling my hair into a low messy bun. I dashed back into the main room and picked it up to see that Alice was calling. I sat down on my couch and answered it.

"Hey Alice!"

"Oh my goodness! Holy cow! Bella that painting is amazing! When did you do that? This has to be your best painting yet? And  _who_  is that guy?!" she fired off excitedly without breathing between sentences.

"Thanks Alice. I painted it yesterday, and I plan to enter it into a contest fund raiser that the art department is having. And what makes you think the guy is real?" I asked curiously despite the fact that as long as I'd known Alice she had been extremely intuitive.

"I just know Bella. The longing tone in the painting is really evident. Do you like this guy? Or are you seeing someone and didn't tell me?! You better not be!"

"Chill Alice, I'm not dating him. I don't even know him. I just saw him outside Starbucks yesterday," I explained.

"Oh, well I have a feeling that you will get to know him. Bella, if seeing him once is enough to make you paint him like this, and since I know you, I know you  _will_  find a way to meet him again."

"Whatever you say Alice," I said smiling. We talked a little longer about classes and such. Alice was studying to be a graphic designer but in Seattle so she could stay close to home: Forks, Washington. I, on the other hand, picked a school far away from the tiny town where we grew up. When it got close to noon, I told Alice that I had to go so I could sign up and pay my entree fee for the contest since today was the last day. She wished me luck and said she'd call me later before hanging up.

I decided to go ahead and submit my painting at the same time as my admission fee to save me a trip to the art director's office. I checked that I had twenty-five dollars in my wallet, grabbed my painting, and headed out the door. Hopefully Mrs. Cullen would be in her office. Today was sunny and nice again, and I smiled as I walked across campus. When I got to the art building, I literally bumped into my friend Rosalie as I attempted to walk inside just as she came out the door.

"Watch where you're going Bella. You could hurt someone with that canvas," she laughed because we both knew I was a notorious klutz.

"But Rose I wanted to see how many people I could knock over today," I pretended to whine.

She laughed loudly before asking, "So what's the painting for?" and gesturing to the canvas I held so that the image was blocked from view.

"I'm entering it in the fund raiser Art of Eloquence Challenge," I explained.

"Awesome! Can I see it?"

"Well I suppose," I said pretending to think about it before flipping the canvas around.

"Whoa, Bella this is amazing. You could seriously win. I just entered a picture I took last year of my parents' house out in the country. It was okay. But this, this is beautiful!"

she exclaimed. "And who's the guy?"

"Thanks Rose. But what is with everyone assuming this guy is real. First Alice and now you!"

"Well is he?" she asked with a knowing smile.

"Yes," I mumbled.

"What Bella? I couldn't hear you."

"Ugh, yes he's real. I saw him walking across campus yesterday. I don't know his name or even what his face looks like, but I can't stop thinking about him. I even dreamed about him last night!" I vented.

"Bella, I'm sure things will work out. Now go sign up, Mrs. Esme is about to go on lunch break, and I'm meeting Emmett for lunch," Rosalie said giving me a push towards the door.

"Okay Rose. See you later," I called as I walked in. After finding Mrs. Cullen's office, I knocked twice on the door.

"Come in," I heard a voice call from inside.

I pulled the door open and walked in.

"Yes?" she asked.

"I want to enter The Art of Eloquence Challenge," I told her.

"Have a seat," she said indicating a green plush chair in front of her desk before pulling a form out of a drawer.

"Name?"

"Isabella Swan, but I go by Bella."

"Which would you prefer on the artwork?"

"Bella."

"Alright Bella, what media have you chosen?"

"Acrylic paint."

"Year?"

"I'm a freshman."

"Alright, and do you have the entree fee?"

"Yes. One second," I said pulling the money out of my purse. "Here."

"Thank you dear. And do you have your entry with you?" she asked indicating the canvas I still held.

"Yes ma'am," I said suddenly nervous as I handed it to her.

She took one look at it, and her whole expression changed. She suddenly seemed to take me a whole lot more seriously.

"This is lovely Bella. Are you in the art program?"

"Yes ma'am," I reaponded.

"Wait," she said, recognition flashing in her eyes, "are you the same Isabella Swan who received an academic scholarship but chose to major in art?"

"Yes ma'am. That's me," I said quietly, blushing a bit.

"Hmm, well the board was quite surprised by that decision, but I definately approve and am glad to have you in the art department."

"Thank you Mrs. Cullen," I replied with a smile. My dad had been surprised by the decision as well, saying that art wasn't a very lucrative career, but my mom understood my passion for painting and supported me wholeheartedly.

"Call me Esme, dear. Now I have to go meet my husband for lunch. I hope to see you again," she said standing up and grabbing her purse.

"Will do Esme. Bye," I said with another smile as I headed out the door.

"Goodbye Bella."

I walked out of the art building with a big grin on my face. Today felt like a good day. I began whistling as I walked to my favorite café on campus for lunch. They had  _the_  best crepes. Before I took more than three steps, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I spun around to see a boy with freckles, bright green eyes, and bronze hair with a hint of orange in it smiling at me- it was  _him_.

"Hi, I couldn't help but notice that painting you were showing your friend earlier. It was amazing. Are you an art major?" he asked, flashing me another smile.

"Um thanks. And yeah I am. I'm Bella."

"Edward Mason," he said, holding out his hand to shake. I took it and felt a plesant tingly sensation run down my arm.

Well Edward, were you waiting here just to compliment my painting?" I asked, smiling still.

"Actually, I also wanted to ask a certain pretty girl if she would have lunch with me."

"Come on then," I said grabbing his hand again and pulling on his arm. "I was just going to this awesome crepe place. Not very many people know about it."

"Sounds good," Edward said following me.

"So what's your major?" I asked as we walked.

"Music. I want to be a composer," he told me.

"That's awesome. I wish I could play an instrument."

"What year are you in Bella?"

"I'm a freshman. You?"

"Me too. How long have you been painting?" he asked me.

"Since my sixth grade art teacher introduced me to acrylic paints. Up till then I had just thought art was okay, but a week into sixth grade, we started an acrylic painting and I fell in love," I explained, sumarizing the history of my art career.

"That's really neat. My mom signed me up for piano lessons when I was little and it just clicked. I also started learning guitar in middle school."

"That's really cool. You'll have to play for me sometime."

"I don't know..." he said slowly, "only exceptionally amazing people can have the honor or hearing Edward Cullen play."

"Oh I see. And I'm not exceptionally awesome?" I asked, playing along.

"Hmm well I suppose you are. I'll make my final decision based on the quality of these so called awesome crepes."

"Well, here we are. Lets go in and order so you can make your decision," I said with a laugh and pulled him through the door.

We talked about everything from favorite colors to dreams for the future while we ate our crepes which Edward declared were definately awesome. It turned out that he was from Seattle, not far from Forks. He invited me to come hear him play at a mini pseudo-concert his classical composition class was having next week. I agreed, and he asked if I wanted to go to dinner afterwards. I asked if he meant on a date, he said yes, and that was the start of our relationship.

Edward and I dated all through college, and I ended up explaining the significance of my painting to him- which ended up winning the contest! We had our fights and even broke up once, though it only lasted two days before we both apologized for how stupid we had been, but we were in love. The first time I met Edward's parents, they were a bit surprised that he would bring a girl like me, colored hair and multiple piercings, home. After they got to know me though, they loved me. I even heard Edward's dad tell him that he better not screw things up with me or else. Mr. And Mrs. Mason were great. My parents loved Edward from the start, surprisingly even my dad.

The day after graduation, we were having crepes at our café where we first got to know each other, and that's when he proposed. I did end up getting that tatoo I always wanted. Edward came and held my hand while I got an orange daisy tatooed on my left ankle. We were married a few months after he proposed. Alice was the maid of honor and practically planned everything. We only cared that we were getting married. We got a small house in Forks and had our first child, a little girl named Elizabeth, a year after we were married. She's already a little artist and decorated her wall with her crayons yesterday. I'm pregnant with our second child, a little boy. I'm a successful artist, and Edward writes music and gives piano lessons to local kids. We're still deeply in love. My life is pretty much perfect, all because of an art contest and a boy with bronze hair.

 


End file.
